


Adrasteia

by Aloysia_Virgata



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Gen, Post-Season/Series 06 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 10:46:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13075245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aloysia_Virgata/pseuds/Aloysia_Virgata
Summary: In response to: An evil prompt for my favourite writers: what if Diana wasn’t killed? It’s (demi)canon she was sleeping with Mulder at the time (they kissed and she took off her shirt in his apartment in The 6th exstinction), so how would he cope with that at the end of Amor fati knowing she had helped Scully saving him? Of course MSR: I’m human. ;) By the way, thank you to all of you: if there's something that needs to be great again is The x-files and all of you are working at it beautifully.





	Adrasteia

Her rooms overlooking Dupont Circle are high-ceilinged and airy, decorated impeccably and impersonally. Crystal and silver, teak and mahogany, Wolf and La Cornue. Most doors remain closed, most appliances remain untouched. It is not a home. Diana is curled on a velvet sofa the color of twilight, reading Italian Vogue.

There are three knocks, then two, then three. Then silence.

She rises, tightens the sash of her silk dressing gown, and crosses the thick Turkish rug. Her hair falls heavily about her shoulders, and a few strands cling to her moisturizer. She wears no makeup. Her feet are bare, her robe is white.

“Hello, Fox,” she says, opening the door. He wears denim and leather, a smudge, a bruise, in the pristine white hall.

He dips his head, steps inside. “Diana,” he says, in a sandpaper voice. “I wanted to say goodbye.” The door clicks shut behind him.

She smiles, feels her eyes crinkle at the corners. “News travels fast.”

“You knew I was coming.”

Diana allows this to be true. “I’m glad you’re well enough to stop by, Fox. Does Agent Scully know you’re here?”

He looks disappointed in her, and turns to go. “Safe travels, Diana.”

“Wait,” she says, grabbing his cuff. She reaches into her pocket, withdraws his mother’s engagement ring.

His eyes widen when he sees it. “I said that you-”

“It was never mine, not really.” Diana presses the ring to his palm, curls his fingers around it. “Give it to Agent Scully, hmmm?”

“Don’t-”

“Samantha, then,” she says, soothing. She doesn’t want the ring anymore; it feels like half of a tiny pair of handcuffs. And her sentence is long since served.

“Samantha,” he scoffs, but she hears the hope in his voice.

“If I knew, I’d tell you,” she says, and is fairly certain it’s the truth.

Fox looks at her for a long time, and a pulse of sadness hits her. She remembers late nights at the Academy, late mornings in bed. Their first cheap apartment, their first X-File. 

Their first real fight, their first slammed door.

He reaches out and takes her hand. “Will you be safe, where you’re going?”

His concern is sweetly painful. She shrugs, smiles gently as she presses her other hand atop his. “I have a number of little places to duck and cover,” she assures him. Assures herself. The price on her head will be high.

Fox curls his hand around the ring. He strokes her hair, kisses her softly on the mouth, and leaves.

***

It was foolish to come, but she had to. She had to see it to make it true, had to breathe in grave dust and press her fingers to the stone. She had to hear the falling dirt on the pine box.

She finds Scully at the hotel, with sharp, dark clothes in stark contrast to the floral furniture in the lobby. Her new-penny hair is bright against the yellow walls. Her belly is round and compact, breasts notably fuller. 

Her eyes are a widow’s eyes.

Scully’s face tightens, her lips press into a thin line. “You…” she spits. “You did this.”

It hurts, but isn’t unfair. Diana shakes her head. 

Scully’s nostrils flare. “Get out. You have no business here.”

“No,” she says, and is shocked by the pleading in her own voice. “I’m risking my life to be here, you have to understand that. I have to say goodbye too, Dana.”

“Traitor,” Scully hisses. “Liar.”

Diana looks her in the eye. “I am. I was. I don’t deny it and I don’t even regret it. Not all of it, anyway. But I left for him, I was willing to trade my life for his. I loved him too, Dana. Whatever you may think.” Her sinuses burn.

Scully stares at her, proud and unconvinced.

“You touched the ship,” Diana says.

Scully’s pale hands cradle her belly. “What?” she gasps, but Diana knows she knows.

“Africa,” she clarifies, for form’s sake.

“This…this isn’t the time for this conversation,” Scully breathes, but there is fear in her face.

Diana looks at her, at the tight drum of skin covering Fox’s child. Her own children, like Scully’s Emily, are long gone. She never had a desire to touch the ship, to restore what was lost. But she had been asked, all those years ago. She had said yes.

By the time she realizes what she’s doing, Diana already feels the baby kicking beneath her palm.

“I’m sorry,” she says, and pulls away.

Scully takes Diana’s hand, slips it under her shirt, and presses it to the hot roil of life inside her.

***

Four AM always feels lonely, neither properly night nor day. She stands in front of Scully’s building for a long time. She’s jet-lagged on Singapore time, hasn’t had a bite to eat since the pretzels en route from LA.

Fear, hunger, exhaustion. No wonder she’s woozy.

Diana enters, her only luggage a light shoulder bag. There are items sewn in the lining. Keys, addresses, passports. A syringe. She knocks on Scully’s door, a knot in her stomach. She’s still not sure why she’s doing this.

Scully answers, bleary eyes and tumbled hair. “Come inside,” she says quickly, and pulls Diana in.

Diana looks around. There is a stack of laundry on the table, toys and blankets on the couch. On the TV, Baby Einstein DVDs. The stroller is folded to her right.

“What is it?” Scully asks, weary and wary. Her arms are crossed.

Diana walks to the couch, takes a seat at the edge of it. “You have to leave. You and the baby, by tomorrow night.”

Scully stares blankly. “I….what?”

Diana gulps. This is harder than she thought, it’s harder when you care. She’s largely neutral towards Dana, but Fox’s child…she can redeem something there. And whatever her personal feelings, no one but Dana is fit to raise the boy.

“They’ll take him.” she says, flatly. “And you won’t see him again this time. And you’ll likely be next.”

Scully is awake now. “What are you saying, Agent Fowley?”

So precise, even in panic. “Diana, please. I think we’re past formality. I’m saying I can offer you two things. Shelter for the present and hope for the future.” She withdraws the papers. The syringe.

Scully’s eyes go wide. She stares at the needle, a hand on her chest. “What is that?” she whispers?

Diana touches it with a single finger. “Magnetite,” she says.


End file.
